The poseur aped the manners of the lummox to impress the dilettante, whilst the wastrel and the roue looked on with barely concealed smirks and titillation.

A recalcitrant roue, ignoring the distractions of the flummoxed lummox, played the part of a pontificating, pedantic poseur while waylaying the wealthy, hammered wastrel who was arguing with the equally dipsomaniacal dilettante.

In a prometean move yesterday, an appollaoian Tennessee man's dionysian bid of $122.03, won him a junoesque treasure, when the safe he bought on eBay was opened without palladium to revel an astonishing $26,000.

Hey, I forgot about this game! This is so cool! You know, it could also be fun to start it on a Monday, with just one sentence or phrase. Then somebody could add to it with the next day's word throughout the week. And if there's more than one story line, who cares? It's our game and we can make the rules!

There is a sparty's game thread and a limerick thread already. Yes, fermented duck eggs for you, Wofa! Why not let this be clean as it came, a weekly phrase. No rools, no glittering prizes. shoot >>>> the l i m e r i c k s

There is, indeed, a Sparteye's Game thread, and I was the last to post on it, about a month ago. I am still patiently waiting for someone to take up my last challenge. No hurry - it'll come in time, no doubt.

It'sure ìs a crazy story and the words do fit (bow Candy). On second thought it's a weird story. How did he get it? Did he have the key, if so how can you have the key of a safe you've never looked inside and not want to open it.

Did he sell it cheap because the key was missing. Was it a stolen safe? High time to set a PI on the case.

Despite the obstructive paraphenalia inherent in committees, our village Women's Institute and the Mother's Union, after years of mutual antipathy that reached down to their very viscera, declared a truce by promising not to use their respective insignia as graffiti on each other's meeting halls!

Some 10 years ago, there used to be a group called Partners in Rhyme who created limericks on Awad words. I do not know whether they are still around. Subscribers to the list could contribute. I used to.

As a temporary truce had been declared, he adjusted his insignia and other military paraphernalia, departed on a sortie to inspect the curious battlefield graffiti of his enemies, and stepped on a improvised explosive device that erupted his viscera.

Some 10 years ago, there used to be a group called Partners in Rhyme who created limericks on Awad words. I do not know whether they are still around. Subscribers to the list could contribute. I used to.

but now, of course, we have the OEDILF(OED in limerick form [wink, wink])

EDIT: random limerick

I love my new blower—it's cool,And now it's my favorite tool!I have stopped using rakes,Since the breeze this thing makesBlows my leaves in the neighbor's new pool

As a temporary truce had been declared, he adjusted his insignia and other military paraphernalia, departed on a sortie to inspect the curious battlefield graffiti of his enemies, and stepped on a improvised explosive device that erupted his viscera.

Neither the bucolic surroundings nor the terpsichorean beauty of the murmurings emanating just now from the lyceum's dim stage were sufficient to distract the cuckolded fellow from the rueful anticipation of tomorrow's jubilee celebration with the capricious harpy who was his first and only love.

Would it be called nitpicking if I put to your's attention the fact that you added an s and a ming to the given words? I mean, how strict do we stay to the phat ideas of the past week's words?

Not sure if this is nit-picking or not, Bran. I must say the same question had occurred to me and I havered over whether to post on it or not. In the end, I decided against but I'm very glad you've raised it!Personally, being something of a purist, I fell we should take the words of the week as they appear, without alteration: but I can see arguments in favour of using them as roots from which one can grow creative plants!

On reaching the preantepenultimate chapter, the author subjects us to a harsh gedankenexperiment, asking us to leave our armchairs for a journey to a dystopian future in which a harsh reduction ad absurdum of the previous 3,000 pages ensues, stripping the story of all its former ambiguity and plurisignification, and we learn that the princesse lointaine had died centuries ago -- such are the labored plot manipulations of this lamentable genre of fiction!

On reaching the preantepenultimate chapter, the author subjects us to an abrupt gedankenexperiment, asking us to leave our armchairs for a journey to a dystopian future in which a harsh reductio ad absurdum of the previous 3,000 pages ensues, stripping the story of all its former ambiguity and plurisignification, and we learn that the princesse lointaine had died centuries ago -- such are the labored plot manipulations of this lamentable genre of fiction!

If we can subsume our ability to discomfit our adversaries into a general design of malice against them, we need not begrudge them their minor victories, while we avulse from them their very decency and machinate for their downfall.

After our waiter cried alley-oop and uncovered the costly kickshaw, he returned to the kitchen toot sweet to parry the demands of the inquisitive sous-chefs, and next raised a mayday over the grease fire that was consuming our entrées.

Yeep! Thanks Jackie. We celebrated last Sunday as we all work on Wednesday. Still yesterday was a pleasant and turbulant day with whipped cream eclairs for my students and a lovely out-dinner with son and grandson. All in all just one day older than the day before.

"Avast!" cried the skipper at the scupper, "what's the scuttlebutt? - any end in sight to this doldrums? - and have ye got a bonanza of cargo?" when a sudden groundswell threatened to capsize both crafts.

On learning of the groundswell of opinion, the CEO appealed to staff to disregard the scuttlebutt permeating the company and warning that, far from a bonanza in the near future, the current doldrums threatened to scupper their business.

Matching forte to forte and foible to foible their conversation admitted neither victory nor surrender until her last riposte, tossed over her shoulder with consummate élan as she paused in the open door, struck him with the force of a physical blow, leaving him only the breath to sigh "Touché."

Sorry blitherer. Besides them being impossible words I've had no time to get it together this weekend. I hope I will catch up in coming days and still try to understand the exacts from your brave sentence(s):~)

As their captain attempted to triangulate a course, the first mate, normally a man of foursquare habit, was seen to swing on a makeshift trapeze slung between the fore and main topgallants, while the rest of the crew pursued one another in a vicious circle, performing actions entirely orthogonal to their duties.

When Renaissance painters discovered orthogonal projection they made a foursquare reverence to it and swung the perspective trapeze obsessively, ending in the vicious circle of a triagulate position between reality and deception.

So obsessed was he with his copperplate hand, he became a virtual tin god, forever grasping for the brass ring of approval, with an iron curtain visage enlivened by the faint silver lining of a derisory smirk.

Just to point out that the article on "brass ring" omitted the information that most of the rings in the dispenser were steel or iron. So simply catching a ring did not win a prize, unless the brass ring was the one being offered. Friends of mine learned to pull several rings in succession, in one pass, in case the brass was next or even two or three after the one visible. The ride operator could also swing the dispenser arm back so no rings were offered for a time, and no chance for a brass ring at all.

The marriage licence in fainted copperplate handwriting could not save her from acknowledging that he'd been just a tin god who never won the brass ring and the iron curtain that separated their once united hearts had no silver lining.

The flagitious couple embarked on a spree of crime unchecked by the thewless forces of the law, he aping the manners of the flaneur, she those of the prima donna, and for villainous intent, neither would be proved a cunctator.

Ha, a combined cheerful intermezzo of lovely poetry. I'm behind with even reading last weeks words. There's too much to do. So Blither, thanks for the sentence ( always giving me the advantage of having an examplary example). Hope to make it before midweek.

Her propensity to ratiocinate tended to redound upon her (though not always in a good way), but this did not daunt her, as her tenacity enabled her to exculpate her clients, and thus her reputation could perdure.

Welcome back. It looks like a very good sentence but as these are words... I already forgot what they mean except for adulate.I adulate your sentence but I think Anu makes it more difficult every next week. I skipp this one, the actual ones look more familiar. So, Friday.

Late because of out of town and out of computer.A belated French kiss from an English civil servant.

Samuel Pepys' femme fatale was often a maid or a shopkeeper's daughter, for who he would overcome his persistent pudeur and as billet doux would try a caresse risqué which occasionally resulted in the much pursued deshabille.

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